PRIESTS RECALL FORCED VOYAGE OUT OF CUBA

On a September night in 1961, two armed guards arrived to take the young Cuban priest away. Agustin Roman grabbed his prayer book, thinking he would be back within hours. But he would never see his church in Coliseo, Matanzas, again.

After spending the night in prison, he was driven to the port of Havana and herded onto a Spanish cruise ship, the Covadonga, with more than 100 other men of the cloth.

"They made us climb the gangplank at gunpoint, " said Roman, now 69 and an auxiliary bishop in Miami. "I never wanted to leave Cuba, but I had no choice. I had no documents, no clothes, no money. I didn't know where I was going."

Relations between the Catholic Church and Cuban leader Fidel Castro had begun to deteriorate almost immediately after the 1959 revolution that ushered Soviet-style communism into Cuba.

By September 1961 _ five months after the failed Bay of Pigs invasion _ they were at an all-time low.

From the pulpit, priests denounced communism as atheistic and counter to Christianity.

The Cuban government accused the church of spreading "counterrevolution."

All Catholic schools and universities were ordered closed.

Tensions peaked on Sept. 10 when a young man died in an anti-government demonstration near the Church of Charity in Havana.

Castro reacted by expelling 131 priests, brothers and a bishop on the freighter bound for Spain.

The Vatican responded by ex-communicating Castro.

Today, the Covadonga voyage is remembered as one of the darkest episodes of religious repression in Cuba. The island was left with fewer than 300 clergy, down from 700 before the revolution.

The incident effectively muzzled the church and set the tone for religious intolerance for years to come.

But the Covadonga story is also a testament to perseverance and faith, as Pope John Paul II prepares to visit Cuba for the first time Jan. 21-25.

Fewer than half of the men who made the forced journey 36 years ago are alive today. They feel vindicated by the pope's coming visit and hope that a stronger church will lead to lasting change in Cuba.

But like many Cuban Americans, the priests and former priests who sailed on the Covadonga are divided over whether they should return for the historic visit.

Some fear that Castro will manipulate their presence, giving the false impression that all exiles are free to enter their homeland.

Others say this critical moment for the mother church calls for them to be there.

A similar debate prompted the Archdiocese of Miami last week to cancel a pilgrimage cruise. The church had planned to take 1,000 Catholics to Havana on the Norwegian Majesty for the papal visit.

But plans changed after many Catholic exiles complained that the voyage would be insensitive.

They argued that the ship would travel over the same waters in which thousands of Cubans have lost their lives, fleeing on filmsy rafts. And they recalled that another cruise ship, the Covadonga, had carried away 131 persecuted Christians.

The Covadonga was a Spanish freighter and passenger ship that operated between Spain, New York, Cuba and Mexico.

The ocean liner was carrying 254 vacationing passengers who boarded in Veracruz, Mexico, when it docked in Havana in September 1961.

Another 118 passengers climbed aboard in Havana. Most were exiles, fleeing after the communist takeover. The ship was already full when the 131 priests and religious people started to arrive.

They had been rounded up from parishes throughout Cuba, and delivered to the port of Havana in trucks and police wagons. Armed militiamen, a civilian police force assembled after the 1959 revolution, accompanied them.

Because the cabins were filled with paying passengers, Roman and the other priests were transported in the belly of the ship, with the cargo. The ship's crew fed them, and many passengers shared their clothes. Roman remembers being cold most of the weeklong voyage, and uncertain about where he would end up.

After arriving in Spain, Roman was reassigned to a parish in Chile. He came to Miami in 1966.

Today he is considered the spiritual father of Cuban exiles, the man who negotiated a peaceful settlement with rioting Mariel prisoners in 1987.

He feels encouraged by the pope's visit. But Roman cannot bring himself to return to Cuba while Castro, the man who kicked him out, is in power.

"A Christian cannot hold a grudge. . . . But I will never go back while the regime that expelled me still exists," Roman said.

Romeo Rivas, another priest aboard the Covadonga, thinks the same way.

Rivas, now assigned to Our Lady of Charity Shrine in Miami, said he is not interested in visiting Cuba for the papal trip.

But other former Covadonga passengers hold a different view.

Eduardo Boza Masvidal, the only Catholic bishop who was expelled on the cruise ship, will return to Cuba for the papal visit.

Boza, now 82, is vicar general of Los Teques Archdiocese in Venezuela.

"Returning to Cuba is an act of solidarity with the pope and with the people," Boza said. "As Christians, we must forgive and see the hand of God in everything."

Boza was the last clergyman to board the Covadonga on Sept. 17.

The bishop of Havana, 46 at the time, was taken to the ship straight from prison.

His troubles had started a week earlier, after a riot that became a bitter turning point in church-state relations.

It started when the government ordered him to schedule an annual religious procession, always held in the afternoon, for before 9 a.m. Sensing problems, the bishop canceled the festivity.

But that afternoon, 4,000 worshipers showed up at the Church of Charity in Havana.

After learning the event had been canceled, they marched on the presidential palace, shouting anti-government slogans.

Soldiers fired above the crowd. Some demonstrators were clubbed.

A young Catholic man died in the clash.

Boza was arrested and charged with inciting an anti-government riot. He spent the next five nights in prison before being escorted to the Covadonga.

"They tried to blame me for something that I had tried to avoid," Boza said. "They were really the ones to blame."

Jorge Du Breuil was one of the youngest priests on the ship, and like Boza, he ran afoul of authorities because of a procession.

He was leading a religious festivity in Camaguey, Cuba, on Sept. 8, when some people shouted "Down with Fidel."

Du Breuil try to defuse the situation by ordering the church organist to play loudly, and promptly ending the procession. But a week later, he found himself at the local police station, with eight other priests.

They were put on a plane to Havana the next day. At the airport, they were transferred to a police wagon.

"I tried not to appear intimidated. The worst thing was not knowing how it would end," Du Breuil said.

Once on the ship, he found the atmosphere friendly. A camaraderie developed among the priests, passengers and crew.

"In general, we were happy. We held onto the myth that the United States would not allow a communist beachhead 90 miles from its shores," Du Breuil said.

Du Breuil, who is no longer a priest, teaches in Maryland.

He's also active in the Cuban Committee for Democracy, a group that promotes dialogue between the United States and Cuba and easing the 35-year-old U.S. trade embargo.

He plans to be in Cuba next month when John Paul II arrives.

"The pope will show that the only realistic way to change in Cuba is through love and reconcilation," Du Breuil said.